Once Upon A Chime
by The Kumquat Warrior
Summary: COMPLETE! A powerful, vain, and arrogant wizard is transformed into a clock. Now, Argyle the clock must act the hero in a number of fairy tales you thought had nothing to do with each other. And what's the deal with 'the stroke of midnight' anyway?
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Once upon a chime, a long, strong, gong-like chime ago, there lived me - Argyle Archibald Worgscoth. Curse my mother who came up with that name! My whole life I have been tormented, been called things like Rayon, Nylon, and the worst – Polyester. Of course, once I learned how to work my magic properly, I magicked all who taunted me into pairs of socks. The socks hung in various places around my house, decorating it beautifully. It was fitting, for I must admit, I was not ugly. Every day I would stare in my mirror, admiring myself. I was tall, with long, wavy chestnut colored hair and dazzling green eyes. And I was powerful. There was only one person more powerful than I and that was my rival, the Wicked Ritch.  
Ever wonder why every story, if it's not about a king and queen, is about someone poor? It's because the Ritch is so dam rich! She has all the money and, since our government is so dam corrupt, she doesn't share it with anyone except those in power. Dam her. Excuse my influx of beaver language. It is my theory that we were all beavers anyway. I mean, think about it. It makes perfect logical sense. We can't fly, can't make volcanoes erupt, and we have eyes. How much more beaverlike can we get? Slowly, over time, we've evolved into the warped species we are now. It's a pity really.  
Back on topic. So yeah, I was a handsome guy. But I was smart, too. I didn't fall for any of those 'damsel in distress' types who thought that the way to get a guy was to make him feel like a hero. Honestly, how dense can you get?  
The Ritch, however, decided she knew what was best for me. She thought I was too vain, too haughty, too good for her liking. So she turned me into a clock. Just like that! She burst through the door, marched right up to me, and said, "Argyle, enough is enough. If you can't tell a disaster from your own ego, then you might as well just tell time."  
"It's six-thirty," I said before I could stop myself. In horror, I turned to look in the mirror. Staring back at me was my own stunned face with lots of numbers circling around it; twelve at the top, three towards the east, six at the bottom, and nine towards the west. In between each of the numbers were fourteen lines, and there were three pointer thingies circling around them from the tip of my nose, pointing to different numbers and lines. Down my body swung a heavy bronze thing with a disc on the bottom.  
"I'm a – a clock!" I spluttered in astonishment. The Ritch laughed.  
"That you are, my friend. And remember, time is an illusion – or maybe that's just you."  
I rounded angrily on her.  
"I am not an illusion! You turn me back at once, you old hag!"  
The Ritch laughed again. She was not really an old hag. She was quite young and beautiful. Dam her again!  
"Now, now, Argyle. I won't have you fussing." She looked me over critically. "I see I shall have to make you a bit more convenient."  
Uh oh. I didn't like the sound of that.  
With one hand on her hip and the other contemplatively tapping her lip, she suddenly snapped her fingers and the room began to grow. The mirror was high above my head, so high that I couldn't even reach the bottom of it if I jumped – not that I could really jump much as a clock – and the Ritch was a giantess!  
Okay, I'm lying. I was just miniature.  
"You shrank me!" I gasped in horror.  
The Ritch lifted me in her arms and said smilingly, "And I know just where to put you, too."  
With a wave of her hand, the room around us swirled. It spun faster and faster until all I could see was a blur of colors. I had done this kind of thing before myself, but never as a twelve-inch high clock. It was quite unnerving.  
When it finally stopped, it took me a few seconds to regain my bearings. I staggered a bit as the Ritch set me down on some sort of mantelpiece and my eyes widened. I was in a castle!  
"Well," the Ritch said smartly, "this should do."  
"No it should not!" I insisted, stamping my little clock foot. "I demand to return home at once or I shall turn you into a warty toad!"  
The Ritch laughed gaily and patted my head.  
"I'll have none of that from you now, my little clock-friend. Though I cannot take away your magic, I saw to it that you cannot do any except on the hour. As it is now six forty-two, I'm afraid you cannot turn me into a warty toad. Or anything else for that matter."  
It was then that I realized the seriousness of my situation.  
"When will you turn me back into a wizard?" I asked rather pitifully.  
"When you're ready," the Ritch replied and took a step back. "Goodbye Argyle. Be a good little clock."  
And with that, she vanished.  
So begins the story of a whole lot of mixed up people tangled up in each other's paths until things, as they are wont to do, began to sort themselves out. 


	2. Looney and the Beast

For a long time I stood perched on the mantelpiece, brooding over my rather unpleasant predicament. It was not until a few hours later, when my stomach was rumbling with hunger, that I saw any other signs of life at all.  
  
A great big shadow descended upon me and I heard a rustling from the stairs behind my back. Trying to keep my dignity as wizard, even if I was at the moment enchanted as a clock, I refused to cower in the shadows, which were looking very welcoming at the moment. Instead, I stood my ground as whatever it was that was lurking behind me descended down the stairs with one graceful sweep and stood looming before me. My eyes widened a little and it took an enormous amount of conscious effort not to take a step back.  
  
It was a beast. Or, at least, somewhat. It was very tall, much taller than any human, and looked rather like a lion, only slightly more ferocious. Its mane was a dark gold, as was its body, but the fur covering it was much shaggier than that of a regular lion. Its eyes, however, were very much human. They sparkled with a coppery brown intelligence that only a human could possess. It stood erect on its hind legs like a human as well, and these were the clues that told me he was a human under an enchantment. Immediately, my fear abated. I recognized the working of the Ritch right away.  
  
"So," I said rather nonchalantly, "did she get you too?"  
  
The Beast looked surprised, as if he expected me to be afraid of him. Can't imagine why.  
  
"Did who get me?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his large human eyes.  
  
"Oh, you know," I said impatiently, "the Ritch."  
  
The Beast looked at me even more suspiciously now.  
  
"Ritch?" he said, "No, this was an Enchantress."  
  
I laughed.  
  
"Enchantress?" I gasped amid my peals of laughter, "Oh, that's rich!"  
  
The Beast waited with a rather annoyed expression on his face while I took a couple of deep breaths and controlled myself enough to speak without gasping.  
  
"Her name might be Enchantra, but she's no Enchantress. She's a Ritch," I explained. "As you can see, she turned me into a clock. I'm really a very powerful wizard."  
  
"Are you?" the Beast growled with raised eyebrows. It, or 'he' rather, did not look too pleased with my presence in his castle.  
  
"Yes," I said, trying to act more dignified. I stuck out a little clock arm in salutation. "The name's Argyle. Maybe you've heard of me?"  
  
The Beast started to walk away in disgust, ignoring completely my friendly gesture.  
  
"Wait!" I called, "where are you going?"  
  
"Away from you," he rumbled without turning back around.  
  
"Well," I stammered, "well, I'm a little hungry."  
  
The Beast turned around at that.  
  
"You're a wizard," he snarled. "Magick your own food! Just leave me be!"  
  
With that, the Beast stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes crossly.  
  
"Fine," I muttered, "if that's how you want to play."  
  
It was almost seven o'clock in the morning anyway. As soon as I struck seven, I'd be able to do a bit of magic and that meant, of course, breakfast. Yum.  
  
Seven minutes later, seven o'clock came. I quickly conjured up a miniature plate of pancakes that were nearly drowned in maple syrup and literally wolfed them down. Before I was finished, another shadow loomed over me from behind. Curious to know what other enchantments found refuge in this castle, I turned around and tried to see over my shoulder. It didn't work as well as I had hoped and I ended up staggering forwards and almost fell off the side of the mantelpiece. Regaining my balance, I looked up to see an interesting looking young woman standing before me. She might have been quite pretty, at some point in her life, but that point had long passed, it seemed. Her hair, the color of straw, stuck out wildly in all directions in what seemed like bushels surrounding her bony shoulders. Her eyes were a bland blue with absolutely no depth to them. If she'd been under an enchantment, I would not have known she was human. She smiled crookedly at me as I hastily finished chewing my pancake.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked in a rather high-pitched, slightly raspy voice. She cleared her throat as I swallowed.  
  
"I'm Argyle the wizard," I told her, sneering a bit at her appearance. She looked no more than a dim-witted princess. Probably was, at that. She giggled and poked me with a finger.  
  
"A wizard? You're a bit small for a wizard," she said, sounding a bit confused. I stared levelly at her, wondering who had dropped her as a baby and if it had been down those stairs behind me.  
  
"Yes and I am also a clock," I told her slowly, as if explaining to an infant. "Failed to notice that, did you? Did you also fail to notice that your prince charming has been transformed into a Beast?"  
  
She looked even more confused for a minute before understanding dawned on her pathetic, sickly looking face.  
  
"Oh! Him? He's not my prince charming." She sighed, "He has kidnapped me and will not let me leave. And he is anything but charming."  
  
I wondered at this, though I knew to take everything she said with a grain of salt. I could believe the Beast to be evil, he looked monstrous enough, but what on earth would he want with a dim wit like her?  
  
"Is that so?" I asked the girl suspiciously. "And who might you be then?" The girl's face brightened.  
  
"My name is Lunella and I'm a princess of a neighboring kingdom. My father came to this wretched castle on business and when he tried to take a simple gift for me, that awful Beast told him he had to either stay forever or send one of his daughters. He was then given three days in which he had to decide, and by the end of the third day, either he or his daughter had to return to the castle.  
  
"When poor Father returned home, I volunteered to go in his stead. No one protested, which I had hoped would happen so that parting need not be so painful, as it was sorrowful enough, and here I am – hostage to the wicked monster you saw before."  
  
Lunella sighed dramatically. I found the story horribly funny.  
  
"And what did your father take that the Beast got so upset over?" I wanted to know. Lunella smiled dreamily at this.  
  
"A beautiful handmirror," she murmured sweetly. "It was gorgeous. It had a flourishing border with precious stones embedded in real silver and carvings of such lovely things! Unicorns, dragons, magic sparks, stars..."  
  
She drifted off and I rolled my eyes. I had had enough of conversing with a stupid princess and returned to finishing my breakfast. When my plate was clean, I left it beside me on the mantelpiece and licked my lips of syrup before speaking again.  
  
"Lunella," I said delicately, "is there a library in this grand old place?"  
  
Lunella jumped as her thoughts returned to earth and her cheeks blushed.  
  
"A library? Oh, yes! And such a lovely one, too, if you enjoy reading. I think it's a dull and tiresome way to pass the time, but the Beast loves it so! He never lets me in the library," she added with a wicked little smile, "but I'll go for you, Argyle. I think you're cute!"  
  
I groaned under my breath and then smiled smoothly up at the princess.  
  
"Well, if you would be so kind as to pass this Time to the library," I said, referring to my clocksome self, "I'd appreciate it very much. You see, I need to find a book about breaking enchantments."  
  
Lunella looked at me blankly.  
  
"Pass what time to the library?"  
  
I rolled my eyes expressively and drew in a sharp breath, forcing myself to remain patient with her.  
  
"Just," I said forcibly, "take me to the library."  
  
Her eyes lit up.  
  
"Oh!" she said and lifted me gingerly in her arms, making me shudder with displeasure. "Of course! Anything you ask of me, darling little clock," she smiled and tickled me under my chin.  
  
"Stop that!" I snapped and she frowned, taking her hand away. "And don't call me 'darling.'"  
  
Lord, what a looney. 


	3. The Beast's Tale

Chapter Three – The Beast's Tale  
  
After Lunella helped me find the books I needed (or rather, she held me up to the shelves and I found the books for myself), I told her I needed some privacy and, with some reluctance, she left me to my ponderings. Boy, did I have ponderings. I had known Enchantra the Ritch for a long time, and I'd never known her to be so obsessed with enchantments before. I wondered what reason she'd had to turn the poor guy downstairs into a Beast.  
  
Shrugging my clock shoulders, I began to flip through some books about enchantments that Lunella had placed next to me on a table. I figured it was more important to break the spells than to spend a lifetime wondering why they had been put on.  
  
I hadn't gotten far in my searching when none other than the Beast himself entered the library. He saw me and headed straight for the table I was standing on, curious to know what I was doing.  
  
"Hello," he said rather awkwardly, "what was your name again?" I looked up at him, feeling slightly insulted. "Argyle," I told him, miffed. Then, deciding I'd better be somewhat polite since I was, after all, a guest in the Beast's castle, added in a tone a little nastier than I'd intended, "And you? Or does everyone just call you Beast and leave it at that?" The Beast looked offended and I began to feel a little bit sorry, which was a strange phenomenon. I was never sorry. Ever. Perhaps this odd occurrence was caused by the fact that this was a Beast, huge and monstrous, and yet he managed to look so pitiable. "My name's Brian," the Beast said stiffly. "And yes, everyone does just call me Beast, but I'd much prefer it if you called me Brian. It reminds me that I'm still human." I was amazed. "Alright, Brian," I said, grinning wryly, "how come you're an enchanted beast?" Brian the Beast looked as though he was at a loss for how to answer so I tried to egg him on. "I got turned into a clock because I'm a powerful wizard," I told him proudly and looked around the magnificent library in awe, "so what are you? Some sort of prince or something?" My eyes returned to gazing levelly at the Beast. "Is that why you were turned into a Beast?" Brian stared at me and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he gathered enough composure to actually speak. "Would you like to sit by the fire?" he finally asked in a low, uneasy rumble. Surprised, I acquiesced and Brian lifted me in a huge paw, bringing me to the other side of the library where there was a large fireplace filled with glowing embers and a neat pile of wood next to it. The Beast set me down before the fireplace and then went to go throw a few logs in. When he had the fire to a small blaze, he sat down next to me and reached inside his trousers pocket. To my surprise, he pulled out a bag of rather squashed marshmallows and, reaching back into the woodpile, found two sticks good for roasting on. He handed one to me and gave me a marshmallow.  
We roasted marshmallows together in silence for a few minutes before Brian the Beast was ready to tell his story. It must have been the strangest looking scene; a massive, leonine animal sitting with a clock no more than a foot high roasting marshmallows.  
"My story begins about ten years ago," the Beast suddenly said. "I was a prince in this kingdom, the kingdom of Floz. My mother had died not long after I was born and my father was terribly ill. He could not get out of bed and it was rare that he found the strength, or the mentality, to utter even a few words. So, though I was not yet king, I was the man of the house. A nurse still looked after me, of course, for I was only eleven, but it was clear that I was in charge.  
"One winter night, an enchantress, or so she said," he added with a sidelong glance in my direction, "came to the castle. She was disguised as a beggar woman and said her name was Enchantra. She begged me to let her stay the night, but I was an arrogant young fool then, and massively afraid of old women. I turned her away at once, not caring if she froze, as long as she stayed far away from me. It was then that she transformed into a beautiful young girl. She seemed to be even younger than I was, maybe nine or ten years old, and she was horribly wicked looking. She smiled slyly at me and told me she was a powerful enchantress and was going to turn me into a hideous beast because I did not care for anyone but myself. And so," Brian said with a small sigh, "I am a beast."  
I laughed, despite myself. That was just like Enchantra!  
"Oh, she's horrible!" I exclaimed, full of mirth. Brian the Beast looked downcast and I instantly stopped, without even thinking. That irritated me. I was actually being nice!  
"Well," I said, assuming an air of nonchalance, "that explains your beastliness. But what about that Luna-girl? Where does she come in the picture?"  
Brian smiled a little.  
"That was a bad mistake on my part," he admitted. "Before Enchantra left, she said that the only way the enchantment could be broken was if I fell in love and if the girl loved me back. Then she gave me a magic hand mirror and told me that I could use it to see whatever I wanted. I was so afraid of people seeing me as a beast, and I was equally afraid of seeing myself as one, so I used this mirror to look at myself as who I truly was – Brian, Prince of Floz. I needed to remind myself that I really was human somewhere inside this monstrous guise. It did not help that my nurse, as soon as she saw me, ran away, never to return, and my father died of shock.  
"As the years passed, I grew more and more afraid of people, so that when a middle-aged man showed up uninvited in my castle a few months ago, I nearly passed out from terror. My fear soon abated, however, when I saw what he was holding. It was my hand mirror, the only proof that I was human and not this awful monster.  
"I tried to scare him away but he would not leave the mirror. He said he wanted it for his daughters, because they were so beautiful and deserved a lovely little looking glass like the one I possessed. I asked him, rhetorically mind you, that if I gave up my mirror to him, would he give up one of his daughters to me? I did not mean that he actually should. I was just trying to prove to him the value that mirror had to me. He took me literally though and fled, sending his lunatic daughter back a few days later. And so," Brian the Beast sighed, "I have been stuck with her ever since. I had had no one to talk to for so long, I told her all about the terms of the spell. She took that to mean that I wanted to marry her, and so every night she tells me she will not. Every night. It drives me up the wall. I pity the idiot who ever does find it in himself to ask her hand in marriage."  
I snickered. Brian the Beast broke into a broad grin and said, "so what about you? Why did Enchantra turn you into a clock?"  
So I told him the story of how she'd burst randomly in my house and said she'd had enough with my ego. Brian the Beast laughed at that.  
"Unlike you," I told him, "the generous Ritch did not give me any terms of breaking the enchantment. She just said I'd turn back into a wizard 'when I'm ready,' but I'm going to go on a quest to find out how."  
The Beast's eyes lightened up, making him look even more human than ever.  
"I know how you can find a way to break the spell," he said quickly. "There is a fairy somewhere in Floz who specializes in enchantments. Her name is Magnificent. She cannot help me with mine, as my terms are specifically set that I cannot be human again unless I'm in a loving relationship, but yours are not. She may be able to help you."  
I felt a rush of hope.  
"Well," I cried, scrambling to my clock feet, "let's go then!" 


	4. Shrieking Beauty

Before I start, I would just like to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. I really appreciate it! Thanks! There, I felt kinda obnoxious just posting without thanking anyone. This chapter is dedicated to Rivka, who is a shrieking master, And to Jon, who can sometimes be a complete idiot. There ( Now read and review! -Your Trusty Warrior of the Kumquats  
  
Chapter Four – Shrieking Beauty  
  
For four days we traveled, through valleys and forests, swamps and rivers, until finally we came into view of a towering castle. An old, shabby, wooden arrow pointed straight for it and bore the words, "To Lord Emery's Castle" in a scratchy black scrawl that seemed as though it had been scribbled in a great haste.  
From my perch on Brian's shoulder, I perked up my ears a little and listened. There was an odd sort of ringing in the air. The fur on Brian's back bristled.  
"What's that noise?" I asked the wind. Brian shrugged, nearly throwing me off his shoulder. I flung out my clock arms and hastily grabbed his fur, the palpitation of my heart banging like a drum against my wooden chest.  
"Never," I gasped, regaining my seat on Brian's shoulder, "do that again."  
"Sorry," Brian mumbled. I crossed my arms irately and made no response. Brian heaved a little sigh and trudged forward, in the direction of the arrow.  
The further forward we walked, the louder the ringing sound became until it was more of a noise that just a mere sound. It was not until we were standing in front of a strange jungle of vines and thorns about a hundred feet away from the castle that we realized what it was.  
"Someone's shrieking in there!" I screeched, throwing my hands over my ears. The noise was unbearable!  
"Magnificent is around here somewhere. Maybe she turned someone into a Banshee," Brian commented in his usual beastly rumble.  
"Nah," came a voice from behind us. Brian jumped, causing me to fling my arms around him again in an effort to stay aloft and not plummet to the ground. Of course, in doing so I uncovered my ears and the shrieking was worse than ever.  
A strange looking young man stepped up beside us, wearing a bemused expression on his face. He looked sort of bedraggled, as if he meant not to be but was anyway because he kept jumping into the thorny vines in front of us. His clothes were fringed and torn and his straw-like hair was a royal mess. He was staring at the odd jungle in our path as if calculating the simplest way to rip it out of the ground and mash it under his feet.  
"What do you mean by 'nah'?" I demanded, as he seemed to have forgotten he was speaking to us. "What is that noise?"  
The young man had indeed forgotten he had company for he jumped and looked at us as if for the first time.  
"That?" he asked, staring at us with large, round eyes as if wondering why in the name of anything at all a clock was addressing him. "Oh, that's just Lord Emery's daughter."  
I choked and stood up on Brian's shoulder.  
"Excuse me?"  
The young man looked confused.  
"Don't you know the legend?" he asked. I stared blankly at him.  
"Legend? No, I don't know of any legend. Do you, Brian?"  
But Brian seemed to have lost all sense of awareness for he made a strange sound in his throat and said nothing.  
The young man threw us a rather lopsided grin and scratched his head, looking all together like the village idiot.  
"Well," he said, "a hundred years ago, a prophecy was made that one day a girl would be born who could not talk at all. It just so happened, that about eighteen years ago, such a girl was born to Lord Emery. Her name was Rosaline and it was rumored that she was the most beautiful girl ever to walk the earth." I snorted at that but the young man seemed not to notice. "A few months ago," he continued, "a young Ritch appeared at the castle." I groaned at that. Why was Enchantra interfering with everyone else's lives? "She said that prophecies were a load of trash and that she could make Rosaline talk if she wanted to. So, word around town is that she did some sort of spell and now Rosaline can do nothing but shriek at the top of her lungs." "Well," I admitted, "she did cure Rosaline of her muteness." "That she did," the young man grinned. "I'm Sam, by the way." "Argyle," I said shortly, hoping this Sam character didn't think I actually wanted to be friends with him. He smiled and I winced. "And what's your friend's name?" he asked. I nudged Brian sharply but Beast Boy was frozen stiff. "Snap out of it!" I hissed in his ear. When he didn't respond, I heaved an exasperated sigh and turned to Sam. "His name's Brian." "Oh," Sam said wisely. "Well, pleased to meet you. I've never been friends with a clock and a lion before." "He's a Beast, not a lion," I retorted, "and I'm not a clock. Brian and I were both put under an enchantment, speaking of which," I added, remember just why we were talking to the dense idiot in the first place, "have you seen a fairy named Magnificent anywhere?" Sam's eyes lit up. "Magnificent? She's here! She's in the castle, trying to break the spell on Rosaline! I've been trying to get inside that place for over a month now, but I can't get past this stupid vine jungle." My heart sank. "Magnificent's been here for over a month and still hasn't been able to cure her?" "What?" Sam asked distractedly, jumping into the vines before him. He got caught on the thorns and slowly extracted himself from their grasp, his clothes ripping a little in the process. I shook my head in exasperation. "I asked if Magnificent's been here as long as you have." Sam looked at me and started a little. Then he remembered he had been talking to us earlier. "Oh, um, no, I think she just came this afternoon." He hurled himself at the vines again. "I'm coming, Rosaline!" He cried, his voice muffled by the ropes of greenery that currently filled his mouth. He turned his head and spat out a few leaves. "Just-" he gasped with the effort of extracting himself once again from the jungle, "hang...on!" He fell backwards onto the ground and rubbed his lower back painfully, moaning. He looked like an abused scarecrow. I tried not to laugh and instead motioned to Brian that we should go. "Come on," I said, "we're getting nowhere with this guy." Brian nodded stiffly – he still had yet to utter a word – and began to turn around when Sam yelled out, "wait!" I turned my head as he scrambled hastily to his feet. "If you help me into the castle," he panted excitedly, "I'll help you find Magnificent." Brian and I exchanged a glance before I turned back to Sam. I eyed him critically for a minute. The boy was a dunce. That much was obvious. But he was a sincere dunce. "Alright," I said tiredly, crossing my arms in such a way that showed I was not to be trifled with. "It's a deal." 


	5. Evilina

Hey! Sorry for taking so long to write this chapter. I had APs and other such annoyingness going on (okay, okay, and a small bout of writer's block too) but finally, you lucky people, I made it a priority for tonight. Well, sort of. First I had to watch the making of the third Harry Potter. And for those of you who don't know, A Wrinkle in Time is on TV tomorrow night at 8 on ABC. Anywhoozles, thanks for all my reviewers (because there are SO many of you. No, but seriously, thanks to those who actually bother to review, especially DH L'Orange. Thanks!). This chapter is dedicated to Jamie, because she has the coolest middle name in the entire world! Okay, read, review, and enjoy!  
  
Chapter Five – Evilina  
  
We quickly discovered that an entrance to the castle through the jungle of vines was simply not going to happen. Sam looked crestfallen at this, as there seemed to be no other way to go about getting to his beautiful damsel in distress, until I remembered Brian's hand mirror.  


"Brian," I said quietly. He jumped, making me grab onto his shirt for dear life.  


"What's the matter with you?" I hissed.  


"I..." he whispered, "I – I..."  


"You what?"  


He sighed.  


"I don't like people very much. In fact I'm...I'm afraid of them."  


I stared at him, incredulous.  


"WHAT!? But you're a Beast! They're all afraid of you!"  


"I know," he sighed again. "I can't explain it. I'm just afraid of people. Take it or leave it but that's the truth."  


I couldn't believe it. Of all the absurdities!  


"But you never had a problem with me," I pointed out.  


"Yes, but I never was particularly afraid of clocks, you know."  


He had a point there, but I wasn't ready to admit it. Besides, I had more things to worry about. Such as-  


"Well, never mind that now. What about that hand mirror you have that shows you anything you want?"  


Brian's eyes lightened up and he reached inside a flap of his coat to some hidden pocket on the inner side. Slowly, he pulled out his beloved hand mirror. The majority of it was covered in Brian's huge, leonine paw, but from what I could see peaking out behind the bronze fur, the mirror was indeed a marvel. It seemed to be made of pure silver and glimmered brightly, with stars of silver winking from the sunlight that shone brilliantly down on it. The carvings on the mirror were like none I'd ever seen and I found myself gaping. Quickly regaining control of the muscles in my jaw that had currently been rendered senseless, causing my mouth to fall open, I gave a satisfied smile and reached for the hand mirror.  


"Wait," Brian said, tearing his eyes from his treasure to look at me. "What do you want it for?"  


I rolled my eyes.  
  
"Come on," I pleaded impatiently, "don't stoop down to Sam's moronic brain level. We need to use it to find a way to the castle!"  


Brian gazed ahead at Sam, who was still puzzling over the vine jungle, and shuddered.  
  
"Alright," he said gruffly, handing the mirror over to me. "But be careful with it."  


"I will, I will," I muttered, taking it from him and holding it out in front of me. Besides for the elegant decoration, it seemed like an ordinary mirror. I glanced suspiciously at the Beast, but he was staring nervously at me, waiting. He wasn't the type to play a practical joke.

"Alright," I murmured, squinting my eyes at the mirror to try and see if there was even the slightest trace of magic. Of course, it was only three thirty-four in the afternoon and I wouldn't be able to do any magic of my own until four, and that included being able to see anything even remotely magical. I sighed. I would just have to trust Brian that this would actually work.

"Er-Mirror, mirror, in my hand, help us get to... the castle grand!"

Brian stared at me.

"I think that was the worst attempt at poetry I've ever heard," he rumbled. I was about to glare at him when, suddenly, my gaze locked itself of its own accord on the glass of the mirror. It swirled a thick, liquidy substance that seemed to draw me inside it. Nearer, nearer, nearer, I suddenly felt a strange sucking force pulling me closer and closer into the swirls. The phrase 'centripetal force' flashed through my mind, creeping out from the stashed away file in my brain marked 'High School Physics.' Without bothering to remember just what centripetal force exactly was, I was suddenly yanked through some sort of portal in the mirror and found myself standing on the hard, wooden floor of an old, dusty workshop. Brushing myself off from some dust that clouded the glass plank covering my pendulum, I looked around. On a bench sat a girl who looked only slightly younger than I was. She was dressed in black rags to her ankles and her head was bent over something shiny that I couldn't quite make out behind her long, dark hair that fell over her the sides of her face and down past her shoulders.

"There," the girl said softly, and held out the shiny object in order to look it over critically. It was a shoe. "That should do it. Now, all I need is that incantation Fairy Godmother gave me."

The girl put the shimmering shoe on the bench, where I saw its partner was waiting for it, and went to rummage around on a desk in the corner of the room.

"I know it's here somewhere," she murmured, "I remember putting it...ah! Here it is!"

She held up a piece of paper with a triumphant grin and returned to her magnificent shoes. She sat down beside them on the bench and, holding them in her lap, began to read off the piece of paper.

"May the power of the West," she read slowly,  
"Help me to dress up my best.  
"Help me please to not get lost  
"O'er the paths I'll have to cross.  
"By rain or shine, day or night,  
"Shoes make sure I'm there alright."

The girl looked up from her reading and waited a minute expectantly. Suddenly, there was a puff of magical purple dust and the girl smiled.

"It worked!" she cried happily. "It must have!"

Just then, there was another, much larger puff of magical purple dust and an elderly woman was suddenly standing in the room.

"Evelina!" she said sharply. "What is heaven's name are you doing?"

Evelina looked not the least startled as she smiled smoothly at the woman and held out her shoes.

"Look, Fairy Godmother. I magicked these shoes with the spell you gave me so now I will not lose my way to the ball tonight!"

The fairy godmother looked at her goddaughter suspiciously.

"You plan on attending the Prince's ball? Even though your stepmother forbids it?"

Evelina narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, Godmother, has that ever stopped me before?"

Her godmother smiled but her eyes were still calculating.

"But Evelina, you know the consequences of dressing up as a courtier. And who knows if that spell will work on fancy slippers as those? It was made for your work boots so you would not get lost on the way to market square. Mind, it would have made life a lot easier if you had some sort of sense of direction. You're just like your father, you know. Can't even find your way out of bed in the morning..."

The older woman began muttering to herself and looking as though she quite forgot where she was. Evelina took this opportunity to put the shoes carefully on a worktable and silently depart from the room.

I had no idea what this had to do with getting into the castle of Shrieking Beauty, but as it seemed I wasn't yet to depart from the strange place, I waited somewhat impatiently from my place in the corner of the room.

I didn't have to wait too long before the door opened and another girl entered the room. This girl seemed to be a younger version of Evelina, but her hair was a lighter brown. She grinned as she saw the muttering old woman.

"Fairy Godmother!" she cried, "What are you doing here?"

The woman looked startled and then smiled warmly at her second goddaughter.  
  
"Willanna," she sighed, "at least you are a girl with sense. Evelina has been scheming again."  
  
Willanna looked curiously at her fairy godmother.  
"Scheming? What do you mean?"

The old woman sighed again.

"She insists on going to the ball tonight. You know how willful she is."

"The ball!" Willanna cried in shock, "But – but she'll get lost! She always gets lost! And the way is dangerous without a carriage!"

"Yes," the fairy godmother agreed, "but she has bewitched her shining dress shoes to get her safely there. With the spell I gave her years ago, the shoes will now lead her and help her through any difficulties." For a third time, the old woman sighed. "It's a shame I let her have that spell. Spells are so dangerous in the wrong hands, you know, dear."

Willanna nodded but her eyes suddenly had a faraway look to them.

"Oh!" cried the fairy godmother, "I must be going! It is nearly time for-"

But what it was nearly time for, I never found out, for just then, I was sucked back into the strange swirls and spat rather forcefully out of the hand mirror.

I landed with a thump on the ground and, rubbing my bruised side, got laboriously to my little clock feet.

"The shoes," I said hoarsely, "we have to get the shoes!"

"What?" asked Sam, who was standing nervously above me. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

"What is it?" I asked, brushing myself off from the dirt of the ground.

"Oh," whispered Brian and slowly lifted me off the ground, his eyes full of fear.

"What?" I said nervously. "What's going on?"

It was then that I heard a long, low yowl.

"Wolf!"

Without even the chance to see the creature, Brian raced off down the path with Sam hot on his heels. We ran past the castle, over hills, and into a forest when, suddenly, a tall woodsman in some sort of armor and carrying an axe ran past us. Brian and Sam skidded to a stop and I twisted around in Brian's large paw to see what was going on. The armored woodsman hacked the wolf to pieces until it was so mangled it could hardly be called a wolf anymore.

"Have a heart!" I yelped, hiding my eyes. I wasn't one for gruesome sights.

"Oh, thank you!" cried a voice. Peeking through my clock fingers, I saw a young girl standing beside the wolf's remains.

"All I wanted to do was visit Granny," the girl was saying to the woodsman, breathing quickly and excitedly. "And then this wolf came and swallowed me whole!"

"That wasn't very nice of him," I muttered. The girl heard me and spun around.

"Oh!" She cried in alarm. "A talking clock? A lion? A scary looking man with straw in his hair? Oh my!"

"Don't be frightened," Sam said kindly. "My name is Sam, and this is Brian and Argyle."

The girl bit her lip, decided we were safe, and smiled slightly.

"My name is Dara," she said. "And this is our local woodsman, Stanley."

We all muttered our hellos, except for Sam who seemed quite delighted with meeting new people, and then Dara's eyes brightened.

"I have an idea!" she exclaimed. "Why don't you all come with me to Granny! I'm sure she'd love to have you."

I was about to protest when Sam grinned broadly.

"That's an excellent idea!" he said excitedly. Dara smiled.

"C'mon then," she said, beckoning us forward. "It's just beyond that bend."

She skipped ahead and we followed reluctantly behind. Stanley wiped his bloody axe on the ends of his shirt that stuck out beneath his armor.

"If you're a woodsman," I said contemplatively, "then why are you wearing armor?"

Stanley gave me a mean look and made no response. I returned the mean look and proceeded to stare straight ahead.

Dara led us right to her grandmother's front door. The house was made of logs, as any house in the woods wood be, and it was small. It looked as though it only had one room inside. From the chimney, breaths of smoke curled into the forest air, leaving the cent of gingerbread. Perhaps it wasn't so terribly coming here after all. My stomach rumbled. Dara knocked in some sort of special code and the door opened of its own accord. 

"Granny!" she said happily, running into the house. We followed at a much slower pace, and Brian had to stoop to get through the door. I had been right. The house only consisted of one room, but it was a very cozy room at that. Against the wall to the right was the head of Granny's bed, and the rest of it stuck out into the center of the room. Behind the bed, towards the far wall, was a small, wooden table and behind that was an oven, from in which the gingerbread aroma seemed to come. I was just breathing it deliciously in when, suddenly, the house began violently to shake. 

"Granny?" Dara said worriedly, standing beside her grandmother's bed. Her braided pigtails hung limply over her shoulders as her eyes widened. 

"What's going on?" 

As I was thrown from Brian's paw to the ground from another violent shake, I began to wonder the same thing. 


	6. The Blizzard of Floz

Well, here it is. The big finish. Well, maybe not so big. It's not like this was a particularly long story. But this is the last chapter, finally! And now I can start writing my frog prince story! The prologue is already up on the site. It's called 'A Croak of Fate.' It probably won't be funny, like this one. It's a much darker tale. But, anywhoozles, thank you all for reading and reviewing!  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Liz, because I finally finished something.  
  
Chapter Six – The Blizzard of Floz  
  
The wind roared furiously against the house, making the shutters slam angrily against the windows. I shivered and Brian bent to pick me up, but was thrown against the bed as the house lurched.  
"Look!" Dara cried, running to the window and pointing outside. Brian had managed, then, to pick me up and I was able to see what Dara was pointing at. "We're flying!"  
It was true. We were at a dizzying height off the ground, though the gray skies seemed never to get closer. The house spun in every which way, tossing and turning with the wind, as large flakes of snow and ice pelted against the windows.  
"Uh oh," Granny said and died of excitement. No one seemed to notice since she wasn't really part of the story anyway.  
On the wooden floor were strewn papers and various articles of clothing that hadn't made it into the shabby little dresser, which was rocking dangerously on its wooden legs not far from the bed. Sam and Stanley were each holding onto chairs in a somewhat feeble attempt to stay on their feet  
"It's a blizzard!" Sam yelled over the howling wind. "A real blizzard!"  
And so it was. Dara was half hanging out the window, watching the storm with childlike excitement. Brian was hanging onto the back of her dress, lest she fall out and plummet to her death. As if that would be a great loss. Okay, fine, I wasn't that cruel.  
Suddenly, a cow was blown past the window and, as it mooed with discontent, I was astonished to find that it was, well, purple. Who on earth had ever heard of a purple cow? I didn't have long to ponder over the mystery, however, for just then, the wind began dangerously to whistle. Dara shrieked as the house lurched forward and then, without warning, began to plummet.  
"We're falling!" She screamed and tipped perilously forward in shock. Brian yanked on her dress and she gasped at the sharp change in motion, tumbling backwards into the great beast. Both fell and Brian almost dropped me, but I grabbed onto his thumb and ended up squished but safe in his closed fist.  
We landed with a bang.  
Everything went silent.  
  
Dara moaned and rolled off of the beast, getting shakily to her feet.  
"Bwyn, leggfmm."  
"What?" Brian asked, unfurling his thick, furry fingers and exposing his palm. I lay there, furious and panting.  
"I said," I muttered, "Let go of me."  
"Oh."  
I climbed to Brian's shoulder and he stood up. Stanley looked shaken as he cautiously let go of the chair he'd been clinging to for dear life, but Sam looked as though he's just had a thrill ride. Well, maybe he had.  
"Well," he said cheerfully. "Why don't we see where we've landed?"  
Dara guardedly opened the door and peered out. Sunlight streaked in and I had to shield my eyes before I saw anything properly. We followed Dara outside.  
"Oh," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."  
"Kansas?" I said irritably, as our joy ride had put me in rather a bad mood. "Where in heaven and earth is that?"  
She shrugged.  
"I don't know. It just seemed right to say at the time."  
I looked at her oddly before taking in our surroundings. We were in some sort of village square, with a friendly, bubbling brook running through and a bridge of light colored stones rainbowing across it. On the outskirts were strange looking shrubberies and a few small houses. Nothing impressive and yet there was a feeling of peace and harmony about the place that even had me feeling somewhat nice.  
"Look," Dara said suddenly, "under the house."  
We turned and looked. There, sticking out from underneath the house, were two, glamorous feet. Following the feet with my eyes, I saw a pair of ankles, and then a little bit of shin, and then – the house. The reason the feet were so glamorous was due to the fact that they were covered by a pair of sparklingly glamorous shoes. The very shoes, in fact, that I had seen that young woman, Evilina, casting a spell on.  
"Oh no," I moaned. "We've landed on Evilina!"  
"Sorry," Sam said, scratching his head with a bemused expression on his face, "Who?"  
I threw him a disgusted look.  
"Never mind."  
"Look at those shoes," Dara marveled. Hestitating a moment, she quickly grabbed them off the late Evilina's feet and, slipping off her own muddy shoes, stepped carefully into them. They were ridiculously big on her but, nevertheless, she began walking in them, never taking her eyes off their adoring shininess. I rolled my eyes. Though it wasn't like Dara was doing any harm. What would Evilina need the shoes for, now that she had been so tragically squashed like a bug?  
"Give me back my shoes," commanded a voice. Dara looked up, startled, and then blanched. There, standing in front of her, was Evilina.  
  
My mouth fell open.  
"Aren't you," I spluttered and glanced apprehensively at the feet. Evilina's eyes narrowed.  
"That's my sister you so graciously landed your house on," she hissed. I gulped.  
"Your – your sister?" Brian asked fearfully. Evilina looked at him oddly, evidently wondering why a beast such as he should cower from a not particularly threatening girl.  
"Yes," she said, advancing in a rather menacingly way. "My sister. Willanna had been greedy, yes. But she did not deserve to be squashed like a beastly little insect!"  
"Greedy?" Dara asked without thinking, drawing the attention back to her. Evilina stopped advancing and crossed her arms.  
"Those shoes," she said rather meanly to Dara, "are mine. I enchanted them to help me get to the Prince's castle. Willanna, clever as she thought she was, stole them while I was out and snuck out of our manor, as our stepmother had forbidden us to go to the ball. I was just coming after her when I found you and your wretched house. My sister is now dead. The least you can do, little girl, is to give me back my shoes."  
Dara looked down at the marvelous shoes and then back up at Evilina. Before she had a chance to decide, however, a large pink bubble descended from the heavens. I watched it suspiciously as it hovered in the air for a moment before materializing into a sickeningly beautiful princess. At least, I thought she was a princess. She turned out to just be Evilina's stepsister.  
"Evilina, you little Ritch!" The woman said merrily, though her eyes held hidden rage. "What are you doing outside the manor? And who are these?" she asked with a graceful sweep of her hand.  
"Oh, just a child, a scarecrow, a tin woodsman, and a cowardly lion," Evilina said offhandedly, obviously wishing her stepsister would just bubble her way out of there. "Oh yes," she said suddenly, "and a talking clock."  
"A scarecrow?" Sam asked, looking wildly around him. "Where?"  
"And he's not a lion," I said determinedly in Brian's defense, as the cowardly Brian seemed to have been rendered speechless with fear.  
"And I'm not a tin woodsman, I'm a hunter!" Stanley insisted, offended.  
"And my name is Dara, and you will not get your shoes back because you're mean!" Dara cried, stamping her foot and crossing her arms indignantly.  
Just then, Enchantra herself appeared, looking distraught.  
"Evilina!" she exclaimed. "You are not very polite! I think I'll have to turn you into a frog."  
Enchantra pointed a finger at Evilina. Evilina's eyes widened in horror as her skin began to turn a bright, emerald green.  
"No!" I cried. Enchantra had to be stopped, once and for all.  
Luckily, it was then that I struck midnight.  
"Ha ha!" I cried triumphantly and stopped Evilina's frog transformation at once. Her skin was still green though. I was about to modify that when Enchantra turned on me. She opened her mouth in fury when, suddenly, there was a strange whoosh of air.  
"Okay, okay, what's all the ruckus?" asked a new voice. Everyone turned to face two men wearing suits and each carrying a pad of paper.  
"Who are you?" Evilina demanded.  
"Excuse me," Evilina's stepsister said, stepping forward. "I'm the one in charge here."  
She smiled graciously at the two men and batted her eyelashes slightly.  
"My name is Glinda, and-"  
"Oh please," Evilina huffed, pushing her way forward, "no one put you in charge Glinda and, frankly, your flirtations are making me sick."  
"Will someone just tell me what's going on?" One of the men said impatiently. "We're the Brothers Grimm and we've had an urgent call to come here and find the Lost Fairy Tales. If I'm right, I believe you are them so you had all better tell us what has been going on."  
There was a moment of silence. The eye before the storm. And then we all began to speak at once.  
When the stories were sorted out, no one was happy.  
"First of all," said one of the Brother's Grimm, pointing at Enchantra, "the title 'ritch' will have to go, as all the rich folk back at home will get offended. From now on, you will be known as a witch."  
"A witch!" Enchantra wailed, but the man paid no attention to her.  
"Next," he said, looking first at his pad and then at Sam. "Your shrieking beauty...that has potential, but I'm afraid it would make for a very noisy motion picture. I suggest we change it to Sleeping Beauty."  
Sam looked blankly at the man.  
"But why?" he asked, clearly upset.  
"It's a lot quieter," the second man said kindly. Sam seemed somewhat satisfied with that but still, he did not smile.  
"You," the first man said, rounding on Brian. Brian quivered and the man shook his head sadly.  
"It is just not natural for such a monstrous beast to be afraid of nearly anything!" he said. "And yours could make for a most wonderful love story. Forget about this Looney of yours. From now on, it's Beauty and the Beast. Though we'll leave it up to some French guy to write. It's just not our style."  
"Can't you change it to Beauty and Brian?" Brian asked rather pitifully. The man shook his head and moved on to me.  
"As for you," he said, wearing a thoughtful expression upon his face. "I think we'll put you in the Prince's castle. Then, at the stroke of midnight, you can work your magic. How 'bout that, eh?"  
I glared at him.  
"I'm a wizard," I snapped, not bothering to hide the pride in my voice, "and I will not remain a clock forever!"  
But the men weren't listening.  
"As for the rest of you," the second man said, surveying us all under his great, big eyes. "L. Frank Baum will be here shortly to sort you out. That's a job for the big guy. Oh, and little girl," he said suddenly, tossing Dara a red cloak with a hood, "wear this the next time you go to Granny's."  
Dara looked at the cloak suspiciously.  
"Why?" she asked but received no answer.  
"It doesn't matter," I whispered to her. "Your Granny's dead anyhow."  
Dara looked at me in surprise.  
"Is she?"  
Before I had a chance to answer, I felt a strange sort of pressure squeezing down on me. The Brothers Grimm looked up and then at each other.  
"Well," said the first one, "it is time for us to go."  
I would have asked them to wait, to explain what in hell's name they were doing in Floz, or why I couldn't turn back into a wizard, but everything suddenly went black. And I, Argyle Archibald Worgscoth, the great Wizard of Floz, fell slowly into a black oblivion until the next time someone ventured to open up my tale. Until then, all I had was a slight awareness of the two black words pressed firmly down over my face. The End. 


End file.
